Balls on a Pin Needle

His skin was a blend of jade and a worn-out rose, slick and wet like seashore stones. Black gills ran alongside his head and seemed to twitch rather uncomfortably in the sun. He was tall. Quite tall. Over two metres, and strong as a bull, with his quilted, vibrant armour, and a headdress of green and blue feathers.

Jenn had seen him earlier. This, axolotl-looking man. He’d raised his weapon at Mo Xixi and asked what right he had to speak. If nothing else, he was living up to his initial impression—given the Participants he’d just defeated.

“Alright,” said Jenn, his face turned into an uneasy smile. “Alright!”

Her body kicked into high gear, charging the warrior headfirst. The man showed a fleeting consideration, raised his block of black teeth, and brought it down on her.

Jenn tried to dodge. A spin on her backwards heel. A shuffle to the left.

But the thing came too fast and too strong. And as it came down, it carved her straight down the middle. The thing, however, did not cut like a blade. With its many obsidian teeth, it functioned more as a saw—raking like teeth—leaving gushes of deep red all across Jenn.

“Balls on a pin needle...”

It was bad. The only saving grace was that the weapon did not drag, and thus did not flay too much flesh. But it was bad even so.

Jenn struggled to breathe. Something must’ve hit a lung, and whatever it was caused her to feel like hot knives were being run down her insides. She tried to inhale. The air came, but as did the taste of blood and moisture, running down the diaphragm.

There came a truly awful sound as Jenn collapsed; half-dog, half-eldritch screech.

Wet. “Am I?” She spluttered. “No,” she spat. “Not yet.”

Her opponent did not even notice her. With his back turned and shoulders slack, it seemed as if he’d all but forgotten about Jenn. Treated her with the nonchalance as one would a fly.

That hurt her. That it did. Watching as Mo Xixi ran up, spear in hand, evidently eager to take this warrior hurt her more.

Pain contorted her features in a way physical wounds did not. I know why, of course. Bearing witness to her failure; the triumphant perseverance of others where she could not—why that must’ve stung.

It was the very embodiment of a shame she had suffered all those years ago. Before she had been isekai’d to a universe where the so-called stories she read existed. Yes. Back when she was nothing.

“I can’t… Not before. Not before I did something.”

That’s right, Jenn. So rather than lament your own failures, you ought to stand and fight, don’t you think? For to a prideful soul, when has a comfortable resignation ever been preferable to a triumphant defeat?

Jennka Cockehead rose to one knee and made her declaration of battle.

“GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HIM!” Her roar cut like thunder. With each word came the fleck of blood, and with each fleck came even greater pain. “He’s mine,” she whispered, teeth bared. “I’ll do it. I’ll defeat him.” Her ferocity gave way to a smile, the same way she did at all things exceptional.

“Very well,” said Mo Xixi, without grievance, and with a drop of his spear.

“I’ll kill all those I deem ugly. If a mere scratch killed me now, then how could I take my seat amongst the pinnacle?” (consider adding a monologue).

Jenn was delirious. “Lizard-face! Finish what you started, you scaly bastard!”

The axolotl-man turned slowly, armour plates rubbing one another with a subtle grind. His slit-eyes grew from a half to a quarter-lid. It was as if he had just awoken from a all too great nap.

“Wait a second…”

Jenn’s tone changed. Rife with jubilation, she understood why the lizard-man had paid her no attention. Indeed, as the supreme warrior he was, undefeated from one battlefield to the next the man was completely and utterly—

—Bored.

“Lizard-man, lizard-man! I don’t wanna keep calling you that, but how about we come to an agreement, huh?”

His body grew looser by the second. “There is no honour in slaying beaten dogs. Leave.”

“‘Course there isn’t! Where’s the honour in that? No challenge, no great obstacle to overcome! I mean, what’s the point?!” She grinned and drew closer, blood oozing all the while. “That’s why I didn’t come to beg,” Jenn said softly, reaching into her torn jacket. “But to challenge you to something you can’t take for granted.”

In her palm clutched a token, the same one she had palmed from Kaito.

“A game?” asked the axolotl-man. “Is that it?”

“A battle of wits,” Jenn corrected. “Tell me if I’m wrong but, you’re here to seek a worthy opponent aren’t you? That’s why you want to fight the King. That’s why you’re here.” She paused, focusing all her effort to continue breathing.

“But wh—”

“There’s nothing beautiful about certainty! The path across the bedroom isn’t worth remembering for the same reason taking a piss isn’t! If you can’t gamble. If you can’t risk losing it all, then all you’re doing is cutting dead meat! BUTCHERY!”

She staggered a step closer, pressing the token flat against his scaled armour.

“Heads or tails,” Jenn managed. “That’s all I ask.” Her voice cracked, and the wetness could be heard. “Heads… I win. Tails… you lose.”

The axolotl-man lowered his head, gills trembling. For once, his eyes opened to their full capacity, revealing two beads of obsidian.

“So be it. The way you project your ambition. The way you approach me so, aligns very much with my worldview.” He nodded, studying the token down below. “Heads.”

“Tails.”

Jenn flicked the coin. They waited for the token to fall. Waited as it turned mid-air, over and over, each rotation catching the sun, flashing light like a beacon of hope.

Heads. Tails. Heads. Tails.

Between each turn. Between each tumble and whisper of the small silver thing, grew a gradual understanding.

“Wait…”

The axolotl-man blinked twice. Then thrice. Then all at once, ten times in two seconds.

Heads… I win. Tails… you lose.

When at last he had blinked a total of a hundred, it was already too late. The token struck the flat of Jenn’s hand. She did not need to see which side it landed on.

“Guess I win.”

Thus functioned ‘The Spell of Self-Assured Ascension Upon Previously Mutually Agreed Self-Termination’.

“Aieeeee!”

Just like the green booger witch, the lizard-man rocketed upwards, curving across the sky into the loser’s scaffold. He had lost after all. And on terms he agreed to, nonetheless. Even if those terms weren’t the ones of the tournament.

Falling to one knee, Jenn was on the edge of unconsciousness. Barely holding it together by sheer force of will alone. This was obvious to anyone watching. And unbeknownst to her, someone was; eyes fixed on her back—dagger in hand, silence on their ever-steady lips.

Rushing forth, a woman sheathed in black readied to stab. Down came their dagger, straight for Jenn’s spine.

And then—it flew into the air. Dispatched by a single strike to the wrist. Jenn turned just in time to see what came next. Kyoujou Numarei, landing a punch to the cloaked woman’s jaw, with all the sound and power of a bullet. Sending her flying to the scaffold beyond.

“Your aesthetic,” said Numarei. “It’s prettier than I gave credit for.”

On the outer perimeter, a large blackboard had its number ticked from 13 to 12.

“The mêlée is set!” yelled Abe from the sidelines. “The winners have been declared! Everyone, cease your fighting! Medics tend to those who are wounded!”

Numarei walked away, paying no more heed to the battered woman. Filly came from beyond, bending down and wrapping Jenn’s bloodied arm around him. He started towards the incoming medics. They, in their all-white coats, relieved the horseman of Jenn and placed her on a stretcher.

“I just wanted to win…” She said. Mumbling. “Is that so bad? Is my desire… such a sin?”

Filly bent over, shaking his head. “No, it ain’t.”

“That’s good,” replied Jenn, somewhere between this land and the next. “‘Cause I would’ve done it anyway, hehe.”